After ending the first call of the morning, Sasuke feels a little more like himself.
The pulsing headache is still there, but the caffeine has helped and he feels a little less punch drunk. Deciding he no longer intends to simply react to his day as it happens – or certain pink-haired dynamos – he logs onto his computer and begins to check his email.
It is not surprising in the least that the first one to show up in his unread messages comes from the aforementioned individual. Neither is the fact she has his email at all, despite him not being listed.
Clicking it open, he skims the – admittedly impressive – CV, barely glances at the attached cover letter and begins to open the other attachments. Letters of references, it seems. She hasn't indicated who they are from, and it's only by opening each one individually that he gets a clue.
With every click of the mouse, his eyebrows rise a little higher, until the last one prompts him to grab his phone and punch in a number from memory.
There are two rings – she always picks up on the second ring – and then a familiar voice answers without even a greeting, "Make it fast, I have a meeting with Kenzo in ten."
Yamanaka Ino could make Anna Wintour seem cuddly by comparison. Having met both women before, Sasuke is only slightly more comfortable with Ino because they were once involved. That relationship was short-lived, given they both have a competitive nature and a need to be in control. In the end, they came to a mutual agreement that she would be better suited to someone of a more…malleable personality.
They still have relationship of sorts, however, and he feels no societal pressure to be polite when speaking to her.
"Senju International I can understand," he tells her apropos of nothing, "they're a big name in medicine. So is Nohara Scientific. So why exactly does Haruno Sakura think I'll be impressed that she was the personal assistant to the editor-in-chief of some fashion magazine?"
"Oh, Sasuke-kun, as if you didn't know the answer to that," Ino purrs.
"Don't be so familiar."
"I've seen you naked. I can be as familiar as I want."
"Your husband might take issue with that."
"My husband would watch and take pictures."
Sasuke shudders. That's exactly the type of thing Sai would so.
Artistic types creep him out.
"You never write letters of reference," he tells her. "Not unless there's something in it for you, or unless you're trying to sabotage a competitor. So unless she brought you in a multi-million-dollar client or single-handedly saved your business from collapse, why do you endorse her?"
"You didn't even read her cover letter, did you?"
"I never read those. It's a waste of time, and mostly they're pure lip service anyhow. That's why I'm calling you," he tells her, rolling his eyes impatiently. "How did a woman whose interest is apparently in the field of medicine end up in the world of overpriced shoes and ridiculous hair pieces, with you willing to speak for her?"
"They're called fascinators, you uncultured swine, and for your information, there's no agenda here. I simply decided to hire the ugly girl for once and hope she was more confident than the usual empty-headed fashionistas that froth at the mouth whenever I offer an internship," Ino sniffs. Sasuke shakes his head. He will never understand fashion – or women – because to his eyes, Sakura is far from ugly. "When it came time to part ways, she impressed me enough to merit a reference. Simple as that."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"You didn't call me to answer that question, and you know it. She's clearly impressed you already."
"It doesn't matter if I'm impressed or not – corporate is different from that rag of yours. It takes a certain type of person."
"Haruno Sakura is the most stubborn, forward-thinking and competent assistant I've ever had, despite the mutant forehead," Ino informs him. "And you would be a fool if you let someone else snatch her up."
"Hm." Sasuke nods. "That sounds a lot more like you than this bullshit letter you wrote about her."
"Ah, so that's the reason you called," Ino simpers. "You just wanted to hear me say it in person? Oh, I knew you missed me."
"I never said that."
"Please, you call me up just to check a reference? That's not your style, Sasuke-kun."
"Stop being so familiar."
"And you stop being so dishonest," she lectures him. "Now, what else do you want? My driver is going to have to break several speeding laws as it is for me to be fashionably late…"
"Tell me why she's no longer working for you – especially if she was such a jewel in the eye of your organization."
"She has a plan that doesn't involve fashion and I saw no way to convince her otherwise. It happens."
"You never give up that easy. You've ruined careers for less than someone trying to strike out on their own."
"And you used to be a man of few words, yet here you are grilling me about a woman that I bet is already sitting in the desk outside your office dealing with your paperwork," Ino muses. "You sound…dare I say it…intrigued."
He frowns. "You always did read into things that weren't there."
"And you are the king of denial," she sighs. There's a pause, and he can almost picture her shifting out of her waspish, fashionista exterior. "Business and personal matters need to be kept separate, darling. And at the end of the day, I decided I preferred keeping a good friend instead of entrapping the best personal assistant. The former is so rare in the world we inhabit, don't you agree?"
Sasuke actually pulls away from the phone to glare at it.
"Now, now, don't make that face," he hears the distant, tinny voice say. "You know I'm right, as usual. And I really have to go now. We should catch up some time – meet for coffee. Get Forehead to schedule it for us one day – buh-bye!"
Click.
Sasuke holds the phone against his ears for several seconds, trying to parse what Ino just said. Although he's gotten the information he wanted, he feels unsettled, as if two conversations were just happening at once and he was only party to one.
And he still hasn't come to a concrete decision about Sakura.
On the one hand, if she's practically hired herself – convenient, if a little presumptuous. On the other hand, if she ends up not working out, he'll have to go through the whole interview process for another contender anyhow.
Luckily for him, fate chooses that moment to intervene.
Sasuke hears him before he sees him.
The exuberant ball of energy that is Uzumaki Naruto, loudly joking and laughing his way through the hallways. As he strides into the waiting area, Sasuke quickly grabs his phone and cradles it against his shoulder, typing nonsense onto the screen of his computer. Looking busy hasn't been known to stop the blond man from disturbing him, but it's all Sasuke can manage on such short notice.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke watches to see how Sakura will deal with this new development. Just as discreetly, he
"Hey Tayuya, I've got to just duck in here and – whoa. You're not Tayuya."
"Keen eyesight," Sakura says. Both their voices are somewhat dulled through the glass separating Sasuke's office from the outside world. "I'm Haruno Sakura."
"Nice to meet you, Sakura-chan – Listen, I won't bother you, I'm just going to slip in here and –"
"You don't have appointment," Sakura tells him.
"Sure I do," Naruto says, smiling at her with his usual charm.
"No, you don't. See, I spent my morning meticulously organizing this schedule for optimal efficiency instead of enjoying my soy caramel latte with whipped cream while contemplating the universe," Sakura explains cheerfully, "and nowhere did I see the name Uzumaki Naruto. Ergo, no appointment – though, I can pencil you in two weeks from Thursday."
"No, but you see, it's sort of a standing appointment, and – hey, wait – you know who I am?"
Sakura sighs through her nose, her eyes flick up at him and she says, "Ramen stain on your tie, your voice could probably break the sound barrier and you're wearing the same Ralph Lauren suit you did when you defended the company in the defamation case two years ago, I remember seeing it on TV. Obviously I know who you are."
"Wow – you are so much smarter than the last one," Naruto says, impressed.
"Obviously."
"Which means you're probably a flexible thinker and can wrap your head around unofficial rules," Naruto points out. "And Sasuke always lets me jump the queue. Perks of being BFFs."
Sasuke's eye twitches and he has to hold back from getting up and shoving Naruto's head through a wall.
That would probably expose him as an eavesdropper.
"Maybe he did before, but now that I'm here, we follow his schedule," Sakura replies pleasantly, a smile on her face but a warning edge in her voice. "If we didn't, chaos would ensue and possibly the end of civilization as we know it."
"Wow, dramatic much?" Naruto teases.
Sakura raises one eyebrow at him.
And then, to Naruto's (and Sasuke's) shock, suddenly bursts into tears.
"It's my first day!" she sobs. "And you're going to get me fired…because you know how he is…and all…all I want to do is a good job, and you're…just…you're so hurtful –!"
Naruto turns pale and jumps back a pace.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa – hold on, don't – Jesus, are you actually crying?" he demands, his voice going high-pitched and creaky. He looks around quickly as if to see if anyone is watching, then lowers his voice into a placating whisper. "Listen, listen – I'll make an appointment, okay? Just…put me in the next available slot and I'll come back, I swear – no need to go crying at me, okay? I hate it when girls cry." He reaches over her desk to grab a tissue and hands it to her as she hiccups. "When is it?"
Sakura's head snaps up and her shoulders straighten. "Two weeks from Thursday."
Her voice is utterly controlled now, and despite the single tear running down her cheeks, she beams up at Naruto.
Son of a bitch, Sasuke thinks, not sure if he is impressed or appalled.
Naruto gapes for several seconds, clearly trying to process, and then a huge grin breaks out onto his face. "Oh, you're evil. We're going to be friends."
"I think so, too," Sakura replies warmly.
"So, I'll just…" he begins to edge toward Sasuke's office.
"Come back during your allotted time," Sakura finished.
"But I –"
"Are you not a man of your word?" Sakura asks, blinking up at him with those beguiling green eyes of hers.
"I…" Naruto swallows. Then he shakes his head. "Damn."
He turns and walks away, looking more than a little shell-shocked.
Sasuke snorts.
Far be it from me to judge someone for using other people's weaknesses against them…
His intercom beeps and he clicks the button. "Yes?"
"Size six, Louis Vuitton. No stilettos and you can never go wrong with black," Sakura tells him.
Sasuke blinks at this. "What?"
"Nothing. Just a hint," she replies innocently. "For when it comes around to bonus time, you know?"
"Go back to work, Sakura."
It takes him almost an hour before he realises the ease with which her first name rolled of his tongue.
つづく
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